Misnomer
by Sailor Grape
Summary: HPSS slash:: By way of the cosmic order, Harry is granted a second chance at life. When Severus goes to say goodbye to Harry's body, he finds it missing. Chaos ensues.
1. Limbo

Title: Misnomer  
  
Author: GrapeSmshr  
  
Rated: R  
  
Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness  
  
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.  
  
A/N: Hey hey, I started another one! Yay for me! It's quite different from VS, but that's what is making this so fun to write. So, without further ado, read on and enjoy!  
  
OoOoOoO  
  
Chapter 1: Limbo  
  
Flashes of white. Black. Red. All simultaneous, yet all separate. Longer. Brighter. They blurred together in a vortex of colors that soothed and stung and washed over him in wave after wave of the most intense heat he had ever experienced. Faster and faster the waves crashed; searing heat, excruciatingly wonderful heat gave way to arctic cold as he was sucked into a black hole. Falling, falling, never-ending falling in a never-ending pit of nothingness...  
  
And then he landed with a sound plop on an abnormally comfy armchair, sinking into the velvety material. His eyes scanned the room with trepidation and curiosity; it seemed like an ordinary enough room. At least, as ordinary a room as a dead person could expect.  
  
He knew he was dead; he remembered what had happened and the exact wording of the complicated spell he had never heard before that split-second, the spell that had just barely nicked his arm as he tried to sidestep it, the spell that had literally caused his heart to explode in his chest.  
  
So if he was dead, where was he? Stuck in some kind of bizarre limbo? Wouldn't that be just fitting. He snorted in derision. Like he hadn't spent a good chunk of his life in limbo. He had to spend his afterlife like that as well?  
  
Pushing himself up out of the comfort of the armchair, he took in a quick sweep of the room. It didn't look familiar, but it seemed warm and safe and inviting. "Am I in Heaven?" he wondered absently.  
  
"Guess again, Potter."  
  
Whirling around, Harry Potter cried, "Malfoy! I must be in Hell!" He didn't have time to register Draco Malfoy's smirk as his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted dead away.  
  
OoOoOoO  
  
"Oh, get up, Potter," Draco said with irritation, tapping his foot impatiently. "Honestly, what a drama queen."  
  
Opening one eye, Harry realized that he had not indeed fainted. He was still conscious of his surroundings and the fact that Malfoy was sneering at him. Picking himself up off the floor, he muttered, "Great, just great. I'm in Hell, with Malfoy. I save the bloody world, and I'm confined for eternity in Hell. With Malfoy!" he finished loudly, covering his face with his hands.  
  
"Stuff it already, you ponce. We're not in Hell," Draco answered, not for the first time dreading that he had been sent on this mission.  
  
"Well, we can't be in Heaven," Harry announced matter-of-factly, hands now on his hips in defiance.  
  
Draco was highly insulted. "Are you insinuating that I am not Gryffindor enough to make it into Heaven?" He felt this growing urge to throttle the teen senseless, which he could justifiably do since no harm would come from it. They were, after all, dead already.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Harry retorted, "No, I was insinuating that _I_ was too _Slytherin_ to make it into Heaven." The words seemed to form a new layer of tension in the already strained air between them, and he could have sworn that the room grew darker.  
  
Feeling quite uncomfortable with the revelation, Draco once again cursed his luck at having to deal with Potter. But the sooner he said his piece, the sooner he could leave. "To answer your earlier inquiry, we are in neither Heaven nor Hell, but a state of suspension in-between."  
  
Eyes wide, Harry exclaimed, "I knew it! I'm bloody stuck in limbo!" He began pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath.  
  
Letting his breath out noisily, Draco sat down on the abandoned armchair. He had a short temper to begin with, and Harry's inane ramblings were not helping matters any. "Potter, sit down." When the teen made no indication of hearing, he repeated himself. Still no response. Growing quite frustrated, he barked out, "Potter, sit the hell down!"  
  
Surprised at the outburst, Harry lost his footing and tumbled to the ground with a yelp. He rose up, glaring at Draco before sitting in the adjacent armchair. "Why are you here? Why am _I _here?"  
  
"I am here to speak with you, much to my chagrin. You are here because your fate has been questioned."  
  
"My fate? What do you mean?" Harry was confused. How could his fate be questioned? Was there going to be some sort of trial? He didn't want to be sent to Hell.  
  
"You were not supposed to die."  
  
Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. "What? Wait, what?" That was positively absurd!  
  
"You were not supposed to have died," Draco repeated impatiently. "Do you remember your prophecy? One of you were supposed to live. Since that did not happen, the cosmos has been disrupted, the internal balance thrown off."  
  
Slack-jawed and disbelieving, Harry let the weight of the words press into him. So now what? He had saved the world from Voldemort but had inherently damned it again with his own untimely death? "What--what does--"  
  
"You get to go back."  
  
Back. Such a simple work with such a complex, weighty meaning. "How? I mean, I don't--"  
  
"Your essence will be restored, and you can live again. Provided you stay out of trouble," Draco couldn't resist adding.  
  
Harry had so many questions, but he didn't want to jinx the situation by asking them. He was being given a second chance to live! He wanted to twirl around the room and laugh until he couldn't laugh any more. But then he frowned as a thought came to him. "What about you?"  
  
"What_ about_ me?"  
  
"Are you... do you..."  
  
"I am bound to the land of the nonliving," he said with ease. He had come to terms with the situation fairly quickly, even though his body had perished only mere days ago.  
  
"Oh." There wasn't much that Harry could say on the matter. Instead he asked, "Malfoy? Could you do me a favor?" At the raised eyebrow he extended, "Can you say hello to my parents for me?"  
  
At first Draco didn't understand the meaning behind the words, but then he smirked. It was nice to know that their past year of working together for the Order had allowed them both a little insight into the other's character. "I will," he said gently. "Now, time to go." He stood, tugging Harry to his feet. "Two days will have passed since your death. The spent time has been chosen for return by the cosmos. Your return will be greeted with obvious skepticism, but I have no doubt that with your Gryffindor-ish personality, you can convince everyone of your true presence." Draco squeezed Harry's shoulder roughly. "And Potter, do try to improve your spell-dodging skills."  
  
Before Harry could answer with an equally witty retort, he once again was succumbed to the falling black hole and flashing vortex of colors. But it didn't bother him, because this time he knew he was going home.  
  
OoOoOoO  
  
He didn't go the funeral. He couldn't. It was still hard to accept, even though he had been there, had seen him outstretched, unmoving, not breathing, on the cold, rain-slicked ground.  
  
And just like that, the world ended just as the world began.  
  
Not too many people had been privy to the knowledge that Harry and he had been friends. Good friends. Perhaps the best of friends, in some twisted way. Well, as best as the two could be, at least. That was inevitable since they had to depend on each other so much, just to stay alive.  
  
Standing just inside the Great Hall, he curbed the urge to flee. The funeral had ended just an hour before. Packed to capacity, no doubt, of students and professors and family friends that were bid entrance into Hogwarts. But he couldn't go; he felt claustrophobic enough in there by himself.  
  
Besides, he had something that he wanted to say to Harry.  
  
Making his feet move slowly forward, he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier. He didn't want to do this, say goodbye, but he knew he needed to. Harry deserved that and so much more from him.  
  
As he slowly approached the casket, he wished that it were closed. This would be so much easier if he didn't have to see that still, pale face, the peacefully permanent expression. He felt the urge to run, to run and never turn back, but he was already there.  
  
No turning back.  
  
With a deep breath, he stepped up to the smooth mahogany box, unable to look down. He had to do this; he had to, or he would surely go insane. He would go more insane than he already had. So with leadened movements, he turned his face downward to pay his respects, to mourn the only way he knew how since he forgot long ago how to weep. But what he saw shocked him into stupor.  
  
"The body is gone!"  
  
OoOoOoO  
  
OoOoOoO  
  
I had a less comical phrase for the end, but I was quite amused by my first inclination, so I kept it. I started this fic a few weeks ago and was going to wait to post it, but I just couldn't help myself.  
  
So what did you think? I do hope it was entertaining for a first installment. Please review and let me know what you think! I do so love my reviews (please see my bio note on reviewing and the circle of life). Thanks so much for reading. Until next chapter, then. Peace out! 


	2. Confusion

Title: Misnomer 

Author: GrapeSmshr

Rated: R

Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness

Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.

A/N: Wow. I didn't expect such a positive feedback from the first chapter. I am in awe of you guys. Truly amazing. So now, as a treat, I am posting this chap earlier than I planned. Many thanks go out to Crazy Mary-J, who utterly saved me from my plotholes. So without further ado, read on and enjoy!

OoOoOoO

Chapter 2: Confusion

It had taken a while for Harry to realize exactly where he was. It had taken much longer for him to move. In that instant where he had been brought back, he had felt the excruciating pain of his heart exploding. It had debilitated him into a gasping, slobbering puddle of flesh on the ground, unable to move even though his heart beat strongly and steadily in his chest. Damn those residual aftershocks of his death! Like one time wasn't horrible enough?

After what seemed like a lifetime or two, Harry finally pushed himself into a standing position on shaky legs. He had been walking ever since.

That had been over two hours ago.

Of course it had been fitting for him to have found himself in the exact same spot he had died, where the last battle had taken place. Had his body been lying out there for the past two days? Did no one know he was dead? No, no, there had been others around.

For the first time in his nineteen years, he wished that he could have spent more time with Malfoy. Then he could have asked some of those questions he has wanted to. Oh well, too late now.

That wasn't his main concern, anyway. He was more worried about getting out of the Forbidden Forest unscathed since he had no wand to speak of. He remembered it being destroyed with that last spell he had used to kill Voldemort.

So now he was wandering through the deathtrap of a forest, so far avoiding the creepy crawlies and fanged and clawed beasties. A few meager threads of what he guessed to be late afternoon sun wove their way through the dense treetops and lit the way for him. At least it wasn't completely pitch. Then again, as his aching body could only propel itself forward in staggered movements and on sheer will, night would arrive soon enough. And with it, dark, and all of the undoubtedly hungry beasties.

Determined to not have been given a second chance just to be a meal, he continued his journey onward.

OoOoOoO

Two hours later, they were no closer to any headway than they had been when he had discovered the empty casket. Immediately he had dashed to the headmaster's office, who had alerted a select few professors and Order members. Said party were currently crammed in Dumbledore's office, arguing back and forth. Their bickering was only fueling the dulled ache in his head and the furious stabbing in his gut, and not for the first time did he wish that he could be dismissed and go do something productive, like, say, try to find Harry's body.

"Well, I still think it was dark wizards!" Molly Weasley said vehemently, the same argument she had proposed when she had first arrived.

"That is ridiculous, Molly," Minerva McGonagall argued, face pinched in irritation. "All of the Death Eaters were apprehended."

"Who said it had to be a Death Eater?"

Leaning against the wall in the back of the room, he tuned the conversation out. They had been going in circles, and no one seemed any closer to adding angles and changing the shape. What he really wanted to do was knock their heads together and make a grand escape. He was seriously considering sliding along the wall to the door, inconspicuously slipping out. He wondered if they would miss--

"Severus."

He blinked, realizing that a hand was being waved in front of his face. Snarling in irritation at the headmaster, Severus Snape waited for the man to repeat himself.

"There was nothing suspicious that you noticed?" Albus asked once more, eyes dim with sorrow and determination and that ever present amusement that was permanently glowing even in dire times.

"Besides the fact that Potter's body was missing?" he growled, watching in twisted satisfaction as the older man visibly winced and then feeling the sting of guilt. It wasn't just him affected, he reminded himself. Others were worried as well. "No, nothing," he answered in a more subdued tone.

"I would say to check the Marauders Map, but it only shows... the living," Remus Lupin murmured heartbrokenly from his seat off to the side. It was the most words he had spoken in the past two days. "I know how he loved it so; I put it in the casket for him to take wherever he went in the afterlife."

A nagging sensation added to the stabbing in Severus's gut. "There was nothing in the coffin," he said slowly.

"Who would take a blank parchment?" Remus asked, stupored.

"Someone who knew what it was," Severus answered darkly.

This led to yet another argument which he ignored. After a good ten minutes of this, he quietly excused himself, needing some air. Sitting down at the top of the stairs leading up to the castle, he silently cursed the cheery sunlight. He was somewhat placated by the massive dark clouds rolling over the Forbidden Forest, no doubt promising rain. And lots of it.

Sighing despondently, Severus desperately hoped that those arguing fools reached some plan soon. He didn't know if he could take much more of just sitting around.

OoOoOoO

He knew that the gradual dimming of the already dim sunlight had not been a good sign. Neither had the first few minutes of scattered raindrops. But when the heavens opened up to a torrential flood, he was seriously questioning any previous sane thoughts he had on making it out of the Forest alive.

But he wouldn't have come back just to die again. Wouldn't Malfoy have a field day with that. No, he needed to do something to protect himself, to get out of the rain.

Throwing up a haphazard shielding charm with what little wandless magic he could muster, Harry ran blindly through the rain. Spotting a large cluster of rocks that jutted out at the top, he crawled under the slope and huddled his knees to his chest, trying to protect himself against the onslaught.

It was a relatively decent spot to wait out the rain, but with the way it continued to beat down, he figured he would be waiting for a long time. Using up the rest of his energy on a warming charm, he settled back into his makeshift shelter and stared blearily out at the cascading wall of rain.

OoOoOoO

After spending a while longer outside, Severus had returned to the headmaster's office with a fleeting hope that they had brainstormed a course of action. He was sadly disappointed. They basically wanted to scour the school for more clues, which was not exactly a forthright plan to Severus. Instead he opted to return to his quarters and come up with his own plan.

Unfortunately, he knew not what to do. He spent the rest of the day staring blankly at the wall. When night fell, he had collapsed onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling until he finally drifted off to sleep.

And then he dreamed...

OoOoOoO

_They had been working in silence for over an hour, and the tension in the room was practically choking him. It wasn't that he despised his present company; no, the edict from the headmaster to work on their civility was actually a smart move. It had taken many bitter verbal spars and a handful of deadly missions for the Order for them to grow to respect one another and even to become tentative friends, much to both their amazement._

_Slamming his text shut and exhaling loudly, Harry looked over at his ex-Potions professor with a scowl. "I can't do this any more."_

_Raising an eyebrow, Severus regarded him patiently. "Do what?"_

_"Pretend that tomorrow I won't be going out to meet my uncertain death!"_

_Closing his text as well, he answered calmly, "That is not what will happen tomorrow. The Order is launching a surprise attack. We will have the advantage."_

_"Like that means anything." Harry stood and began pacing. "In the end, it'll all come down to me."_

_Severus groaned. Not this again. "Self-pity is not something to be desired."_

_"Neither is being killed!" he cried, stopping. Shoulders slumping, his chin fell to his chest as he whispered painfully, "I don't want to die."_

_Crossing the room in two long strides, Severus placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him none too gently. "Pull yourself together. You are not going to die." To his absolute and complete horror, he felt this heart-wrenching pang at Harry's words. The pathetic resignation was just too much. And so were the glittering eyes staring widely at him._

_"Can you promise me something?"_

_There was so much despair, so much worry and need in the simple question that Severus felt he could promise Harry anything..._

_"Can you promise me that I won't die?"_

_...except that._

_"I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't," Severus answered quietly, regretfully. He wished he could. Merlin, he wished he could._

_"I know. I'm just scared. Terrified." His shoulders started trembling. "I'll do it, though. Because I have to. Because I need to."_

_Severus could no longer listen to these forlorn words. He went against every personal decree he had set long ago and pulled Harry into a hug, crushing the teen to his chest. He could tell that Harry wanted to sob but, like himself, would not allow it. He had too much strength for someone at such a young age._

_"Can you promise me this, then?" Harry asked, words muffled into Severus's shoulder. He looked up when a gentle hand brushed against his cheek. "Can you promise that you won't die?"_

_"Harry, I..." He wished that he could. He wished that he could fight the battle for Harry. He wished they didn't have to fight at all. But he couldn't say any of this, couldn't get his mouth to form the words. Rubbing slow circles on the teen's back, he couldn't help but get lost in the moment, in the desperation and comfort that was craved by both, in the sparks and emotions that were bubbling up to the surface. His face slowly inched downward, closer, closer to Harry's own, whose eyes were now shut, head tilted up, needing and wanting and waiting._

_Closer, ever closer until their breaths were mingling, lips just a fraction away.   
_OoOoOoO

Severus awoke with a start, practically flying off the bed. He was shuddering violently, cheeks scratchy from dried tears that refused to fall two days before but couldn't be quelled by his subconscious any longer.

He remembered it so well, that moment, in vivid images and ethereal snatches of pale, velvety skin, a gentle caress. They had been interrupted mere fractions of a second later, before anything could happen. But if there had been no interruptions...

Well, no use dwelling on that now. What ifs were of no importance, especially now, especially since Harry was gone.

Stumbling off the bed, Severus slipped into a dressing gown and slippers and hurried out of the room, wanting to be anywhere but there. He ended up in the North tower, standing out in the almost complete blackness that used to soothe him but now filled his mind with nothing but trepidation. There was nothing that could make up for the void that Harry left, and he wanted nothing to.

It was three in the morning, and he had no intentions of going back to sleep. At least he didn't have to worry about having to teach tomorrow. The students had all been given a week off to spend with their families in celebration of the Dark Lord's defeat. Of course, they had left immediately after Harry's funeral, so their celebrating would be dampened some. But Severus had nothing to celebrate.

What he really wanted to do was curse the world twice over, but that would have basically countered Harry's saving it.

Harry.

He was gone.

Like being sucked under by an emotional tidal wave, Severus felt as if he were drowning. Had he the strength, he would have smacked himself repeatedly over the head for being affected so much by one person, one certain person. It was quite ridiculous, really, and in a moment's insanity he was so close to bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter. But that would not do. No, he must stay strong, must not let the pain take over. As he repeated the fruitless mantra in his head, he left the tower on the lengthy trek back to the dungeons.

For the first time in his adult life, Severus Snape consciously allowed tears to fall from his eyes.

OoOoOoO

OoOoOoO

Aww, so much emotion. You know, I'm quite enjoying my little trip into Angst City. I usually avoid writing such emotions, but it's so entertaining that I may just add a little bit more! That's neither a threat nor a promise, just a speculation.

Anyway, please drop me a line and let me know what you think. I am a huge fan of (nicely written) constructive criticism and an even bigger fan of praise. Whatever you want to leave me, I'll read with relish. Thanks so much to everyone who read and/or reviewed the first chapter. To all of you, I'll give you a shirtless Sev. If you want to see more skin, send a review! Until next chapter, then. Peace out!


	3. Insanity

Title: Misnomer 

Author: GrapeSmshr

Rated: R

Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness

Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.

Thanks to: Crazy Mary-J, whose masterful wit and evilness has definitely prodded my sorry behind along in writing. Appreciate all your help, dear!

A/N: Sorry this took a bit longer than usual to get out. I've had an absolutely hellish week... Turned in a 12 page paper for my History & Systems of Psych class this morning. Had over a month to write it, but I wait til the weekend before. Typical, typical me. Anyway... Enough of my whining. Here it is, the next installment! Read on and enjoy!

OoOoOoO

Chapter 3: Insanity

He didn't know what time it was. There was absolutely no light in the Forest, and Harry was navigating on pure instinct. The rain had finally let up only an hour previous, and he had taken the opportunity to plow on, slugging through the mucky tangles of foliage and hiding when he got the distinct impression that a creature was nearby. So far his instincts had served him well.

He remembered the last time he had been in the Forest previous to the battle. It had been with Severus only a week earlier. They had been searching for potions ingredients before stumbling upon a band of trolls. Unable to sneak away unnoticed, they had engaged in a fight that left the two battered and bruised but with pockets of troll claw clippings, which were a great potions ingredient. It had been exhausting but quite exhilarating as well.

Harry smiled at the memory. He had loved watching Severus fight, the lithe body counter in deft movements and with practiced ease and precision. He had long since grown to trust and depend on the man, leaning heavily on him both physically and emotionally in the past year.

After his two best friends had disappeared last fall, Harry had been frantic. When their lifeless bodies were deposited in brightly wrapped packages by Hogwarts's front gate on Christmas morning, Harry had broken down. He had no family left, no godfather, no best friends... He was utterly alone.

Until Severus literally ordered him to stop wallowing over events that couldn't be changed and focus on the future, which _could_ be changed. The two had started training together, gradually becoming civil and eventually forming a tentative friendship. But somewhere along the line it started morphing into something else, something with more depth, more layers, accompanied by more confusion but capped off by strength of heart. Love, perhaps, was too strong a word, but it wasn't too far off in its accuracy.

Harry could only imagine what the man was going through right now, thinking Harry dead. Would he be affected? Would he be sad? Would he even care?

Yes, yes, he would, Harry thought with confidence. His feelings may not be exactly mirrored, but they were at least reciprocated in some form. He knew that much. He desperately needed to get out of this forest. He needed to find Severus and let him know that he was alive, let everyone know that he was alive.

So, when a few moments later he finally stumbled out of the Forest and found himself staring at Hogwarts, he almost wept in joy. He took a few staggering steps forward before his legs collapsed from under him, sending him crashing painfully to the ground. He tried to raise himself up but had no strength to do so. He was so close, and his body had finally given out. He briefly wondered if anyone would find him before some creature wandering on the outskirts of the Forest decided that he looked like a tasty snack.

"I may be joining you yet, Malfoy," he muttered before his eyes closed as he slipped into the land of unconsciousness.

OoOoOoO

It had been a hell of a night. Remus propelled his fatigued, aching body through the Forest, cursing the full moon and his lycanthropy not for the first time that morning. At least he had another month before having to endure this torture again. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless, one that he desperately clung to in his haze of dysphoria.

Stepping out of the Forest, he sensed he was not alone before he saw another person. His suspicions were confirmed when he spotted the crumpled body lying in the early morning sun. He stumbled over to the body that was facedown in the dewy grass, falling to his knees beside the male form and gingerly turning the body over. When he saw the face, he recoiled in shock.

It was Harry. Harry's body. He had found Harry's lifeless body.

Gently cradling the deceased body of his deceased best friend's son to his chest, Remus began to weep. Harry had been so strong, so strong. And now he was dead, Remus's surrogate godson and second generation Marauder. Dead. Gone.

And never coming back.

He lowered Harry's body to his lap, tearing falling on the teen's forehead. "I'm sorry, Harry," he sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't notice when the body in his arms gave a choked moan, but he froze in openmouthed shock as those emerald eyes blinked back up at him. His first inclination was to drop Harry's body and run like mad, but he was quite paralyzed. And scared. More than a little so. But when Harry croaked out Remus's name, the lycanthrope yelped and pushed Harry out of his lap, climbing to his feet and backing away cautiously.

"Ouch," Harry groaned as his head smacked once again against the ground. His tired eyes turned to the fearful man staring down at him. "Remus, it's me. Harry." He knew it was a rather imbecilic statement, but his pain-muddled mind wasn't quite up to making coherent sentences. Not until he had a generous dose of Pepper-Up, at least. "Remus. Dumbledore. Please," Harry tried again. "I need to see... Dumbledore." His words began to slur as his vision fuzzed and darkened around the edges. He blinked rapidly, fighting to stay conscious.

Remus's thoughts were reeling. He wanted to believe it was Harry, needed to even. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he did. But there was still a large part of him that was scared beyond all belief. The only instances he knew of where people returned from the nonliving were when they became creatures of the night, which he knew Harry was not. The only logical explanation was that he was an impostor.

Perhaps the suspicion shone on his face because Harry suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn, folded parchment that Remus immediately recognized.

Taking the parchment with shaking hands, Remus unfolded the Marauder's Map and sought out his own scrolling name on the edge of the map's Forbidden Forest. Directly next to him was the scrolled name of Harry Potter. The map didn't lie.

Harry was very much alive.

"Harry--wait--but how..." Remus wondered, confusion and elation and concern bubbling up in him. He sank to his knees again, gingerly pulling Harry into a sitting position. "Harry."

"Remus." Harry blinked owlishly, a weary smile on his face.

Unable to hold back any longer, the older man hugged Harry, trying to keep from sobbing openly. After a few moments, he pulled away, returning Harry's smile. "Let's go see Dumbledore. You can tell us what happened."

Helping Harry to his feet, Remus dropped an arm around the teen's waist as he led the way back to the castle. There was silence between them, only the occasional winded sigh and pained puff of breath breaking the otherwise calm air.

It was still rather early in the morning, so the general population of Hogwarts's professors was asleep, which both were thankful for. Knowing that Albus would be awake--did the man ever sleep?--Remus gave the password to the gargoyle statue, and the two were on their way up the spiraling stairs. At the top of the stairs, he knocked politely on the door, being bid entrance mere moments later.

Albus was not surprised to see Remus. When he was met with the sight of Harry, however, his half-moon spectacles slid off the tip of his nose and fell onto the desk. One wave of his hand, and the spectacles were back in place. For once in his long life, Albus was completely speechless.

This made Harry chuckle. "No offer of tea, Albus?" he joked in a scratchy voice. "Am tired."

"Oh!" Remus led Harry over to a chair, immediately collapsing into the one next to it. They both stared at Albus expectantly, awaiting his reaction.

Steaming mugs of tea appeared in front of them almost instantly. While the exhausted two immediately sipped from their mugs, Albus took this moment to gaze intently at Harry as if he were an enigma, which he was, really. He didn't know what to make of the teen. It was striking, really, the resemblance to the deceased Harry. Because the odds of this Harry being real were infinitesimal. Albus knew a great many things, but he knew not what to say at this moment.

Remus had been expecting this sort of reaction. "It's him, Albus," he said, clasping a hand on Harry's arm protectively. He gave the Marauder's Map to Albus as proof.

But Albus was not to be convinced so easily. He had too much experience with the tampering of magical artifacts to be swayed just by a seemingly authentic scrolled name. "It appears so," Albus murmured noncommittally.

Harry knew that Albus would not be so trusting. He wouldn't be one of the most powerful wizards in all of history if he let his naivete rule his actions. "I understand your skepticism, Albus," Harry said softly. "It took some time for me to adjust to the fact as well." He set his mug down on the desk, beginning to pace. The other two men immediately recognized it as a true Harry habit. "I'm so grateful to be granted a second chance at life. Now I can do those things that I should have a long time ago." He paused in front of the desk. "That includes apologizing to you, Albus. It took quite a while for our relationship to be restored after the end of my fifth year. I never should have blown up at you like that." His head lowered shamefully. "I never meant to make you cry," he whispered. By the time he was finished talking, his voice was hoarse and scratchy, his throat raw.

And that was all it took. Rising shakily from his chair, Albus circled around the desk and embraced Harry warmly. "Harry, my boy. Welcome back." He pulled away, tears glittering in his eyes but not falling this time. He ushered Harry back into his chair, giving both him and Remus a vial of potion, which they both downed gratefully. Returning to his chair, Albus settled in to hear Harry's tale.

Talk Harry did. He started from the battle, to his after-death talk with Malfoy, to his journey out of the Forbidden Forest. He was quite exhausted and in need of a trip to the infirmary, but there was one more person whom he wished to see before he did so.

Albus didn't even need to ask whom said person was. He went directly to the fireplace to make a call.

OoOoOoO

Severus had been sitting in his living quarters all night, trying not to think or move or do anything that required the barest of brain functioning. So he was quite startled when Albus's head popped into the fireplace. "Go away, Albus," he snarled without hesitation.

"Good morning to you as well, Severus," Albus rang out pleasantly, unfazed by Severus's lack of manners. "This is not a social call, I'm afraid. Would you care to step into my office?"

"No," he answered bluntly.

"It is in regard to young Harry."

Freezing, Severus immediately wondered and dreaded what Albus had found out. But he had to know. He _had_ to. He gave a terse nod to Albus.

"Whenever you are ready, then." Albus's head disappeared.

Would he ever be ready for this? Was there any way to prepare himself yet again for bad news?

Reluctantly, he stepped through to Albus's office.

At his arrival, Harry's eyes widened in sheer joy as he struggled to push himself out of the chair he had been waiting in. "Severus!"

Albus and Remus stepped off to the side, watching the scene with both apprehension and fascination.

Severus blinked, then blinked again. He was going mad, absolutely and utterly bonkers. Harry was not in front of him. Harry was dead. Harry had died. "You're dead," he uttered his thoughts aloud. "And I must be going insane."

"No, you're not." Harry went to take a step forward but was met by a wand pointed in his direction. He stared at the wand, then back at Severus questioningly.

"Impostor!" the older man accused, gripping the wand more tightly. "You are not Harry! Who are you, and where is his body?"

"I'm right here! It's me!" Harry wasn't stupid; he had both expected and feared this reaction. But he was not to be deterred. "Severus, it really is me. I was brought back."

"Rubbish!" But even as Severus said this, his hand started trembling violently, wand shaking. He still held it pointed, though he was unsure he would be able to hit even the wall with a hex at this point.

"It's true," Harry continued, bravely taking another step forward, eyes not on the wand now but on Severus's face. "The Higher Powers sent me back. Turns out my Prophecy was actually good for something." He laughed ruefully, then sobered. "It really is me. You of all people know that Polyjuice potion can't be used on a deceased person, and you would be able to detect a glamour of this magnitude the moment you stepped into the room." Cautiously moving forward, he stopped directly in front of the wand. "Please. I would have come to you first, but Remus found me and had to practically carry me up here. Please," he repeated. "I trust you with my life. Please trust me now."

When Severus made no sound, no move, Harry sighed heavily and said, "That's fine. I figured as such." He turned around to leave, murmuring, "I'm just happy that you're still alive, even if you couldn't promise me at the time."

He got no further than two steps before a warm, strong hand grabbed his wrist, spinning him around to face the potions master. "Harry?" Wand clattering to the floor, Severus looked like he wanted to embrace Harry but would not do so with an audience. But that was all right for now. The happiness at Harry's presence was plainly visible in Severus's eyes.

"I think it's about time we head over to see Poppy," Remus said gently.

"We will talk later, yes?" Harry asked, opposite hand reaching up to gently squeeze the hand encircling his wrist.

"Of course," Severus replied, reluctantly pulling away. And without a backwards glance, he retrieved his wand and flooed back to his quarters.

"Now then, I do say that Poppy will be most thrilled to have her favorite patient back," Albus commented.

Chuckling under their breath, the three made their way slowly to the infirmary.

OoOoOoO

OoOoOoO

Finally they meet back up! I know, their meeting was totally short. All in good time, my friends. Next chapter, maybe. We'll see.

As always, thanks so much for reading and or reviewing! I do so much appreciate and love the support. It just makes my day that much brighter. And believe me, I could use a bright day right about now. To all of you who got shirtless Sev from reviewing last chapter, review this one and you can have a trouserless Sev! If that ignites a fire in ya, please review! (one of these days I'll actually get around to finishing my fanart so I can depict such a Sev...)

Alrighty, see ya next update. Peace out!


	4. Advantages

Title: Misnomer 

Author: GrapeSmshr

Rated: M

Coupling: HP/SS slashy goodness

Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were so, these charas don't belong to me.

A/N: Haha, bet you all thought I gave up on this fic, didn't you? Well, I kinda did... but only temporarily (temporarily being almost a year, apparently). But I'm back! I'm not gonna bore you with excuses, even though I have some. I just have one thing else to say: read on and enjoy!

OoOoOoO

Chapter 4: Advantages

Harry was quite ready to leave Poppy's overenthusiastic care that evening. He had been in the infirmary for seven days now. The first two had been spent in a potion-induced slumber while Poppy seemingly administered every kind of test and healing magic imaginable just as a precaution.

The following few days were spent being visited by the Weasleys--minus Ron, Charlie, Percy, and Ginny, who were casualties of the war. He had also been swamped with his old house- and year-mates, not to mention all of the professors, save one.

Severus had not stopped by to see him, not once.

On one hand, Harry could understand his staying away. Harry seemed to always be surrounded by people, so it would be difficult to have a meaningful exchange of words without kicking everyone else out. On the other hand, though...

Harry just missed him.

It was somewhat of a mind-boggling transition. He had spent almost every single day with the man in the past year, either on missions or training or even taking the occasional breaks to mellow out and siphon off some of the stress.

And it had been a week since seeing him.

Was he being avoided? It was a ridiculous notion, yet it had some merit. Showing up out of the blue like that, brought back from the grave? Yes, he could imagine how that could throw a person off. Hell, he was pretty thrown off as well.

Having been in the infirmary for so long, even breezing in and out of consciousness over the past week, it gave him more than enough time to ponder the recent... events he had just been through.

It really was quite funny, actually, in a morbid kind of way. He had always had these plans for the rest of his life; he would start a career as an Auror, get married to a beautiful and amazing wizard, and live happily ever after.

But then he had died.

If there was ever anything in the world that gave one perspective on his life choices, it would definitely be dying. There was nothing like an untimely death and magical resurrection to allow someone to see the world in a different light. And Harry most certainly did.

Maybe it was the fact that he had died defending the world from evil. Whatever it was, Harry no longer had any desire to be an Auror. His days of living in peril were over. And he had long ago given up on the adolescent fancy of joining the professional Quidditch leagues. He loved to play, but never for a living.

He had his entire life ahead of him. A second life. A second chance. And what was he doing with it? Nothing. For the first time ever, he had no clue what the rest of his life would hold. He had always had someone telling him what his next course of action would be, whether it be the Dursleys, Albus, or even Severus. Now that he had the power to make his own decisions, he had no bloody idea what he should be doing.

And he loved it.

Now that he really pondered it, maybe it was a good thing, his oblivion to any future plans. He had always been adventurous--reckless, even, if he were candid--but it was always with an underlying purpose. It would be refreshing to know that his characteristic adventurousness would not lead to the downfall of the Wizarding world with one false move. Harry planned on making up for his misspent youth. Just how he would accomplish this, he wasn't quite sure. But he would, in spades.

And he wanted Severus's company when he did so.

That was the one aspect of his future that he was certain about. He wanted Severus not just present but playing an important and cherished role, like he had before. And if that was his only certainty at the moment, then he would be happy with it.

Now all he had to do was find the surly man and let him in on the revelation. Harry knew that when Severus didn't want to be found, he couldn't be found--except by Harry. With either great stupidity or great trust, he had revealed to Harry the whereabouts of his self-induced secluded getaway. Fueled by determination, Harry set out for the lengthy trek into the heart of the dungeons.

OoOoOoO

Stopping only long enough to take a generous drink from his brandy snifter, Severus resumed his pacing in front of the musty, disused fireplace. His right hand clutched a small rectangular paper; his left hand gestured sharply with his unspoken thoughts.

Having learned from Albus that Harry would be released from the infirmary that evening, he knew with no uncertainty that he would be receiving a visit from the younger man. And he would undoubtedly be incensed.

It wasn't that he didn't want to visit Harry. That could not be further from the reason. He was just... scared. Which was completely and utterly stupid, he knew, but he felt that way nonetheless.

After the initial shock wore off and mind-numbing realization set in, he had accepted Harry's death. He hadn't come to terms with it, but he had prepared for the worst when they went into battle. And when the worst happened...

But there was no need to dwell on that now.

Harry was alive!

Severus stopped pacing, snorting in derision as he noticed how one of Harry's nervous quirks had transferred to him. He sat down in an overstuffed armchair, raising the paper in his hand.

It was a photograph taken from the Yule ball. He had been griping at Harry for some reason or another, probably about how he had been coerced into chaperoning the blasted event. Harry had only smiled at him. Not a placating smile, but a genuine smile.

There had been a large collage of pictures of Harry in the Great Hall. Everyone was encouraged to taken any pictures that spoke to them, and Severus had taken that snapshot when no one was around to see him. It was his last desperate attempt to hold on to the man whom he had grown to deeply care for. His last piece of the man.

But he didn't need it now. He could see Harry any time he wanted.

Unless he alienated Harry by not visiting him...

Oh Merlin, what if _Harry_ didn't want to see _him_? He had been only selfishly brooding in his own thoughts and hadn't much considered what Harry must be feeling.

And he knew Harry. Very well. Enough to know that there was no one that Harry would feel comfortable enough with to pour his heart out to. Except for Severus himself.

And he had been avoiding Harry.

With a disgusted growl, Severus picked up the snifter and flung it across the room, not even relishing in the loud shatter it caused. He may have very well ruined what would potentially have been the best thing that ever happened to him. He needed to find Harry, needed to clear things up.

But before he could even consider a plan of action, the door to the room burst open, and in charged Harry. A sharp flick of his hand, and the door slammed with a resounding bang.

Harry wasn't angry, no, but he wanted answers. On why he was being avoided. On what had been developing between them before the battle. And why was Severus staring at him like that?

Having never been one to pass up opportunities when they were presented to him, Severus decided to tell Harry how he was feeling the only way he knew how. Photograph fluttering to the rug, Severus strode across the room and took Harry in his arms, embracing him as if he would disappear again. For all he knew, Harry would.

Holding on just as tightly, Harry was somewhat comforted by the slightly trembling form of the older man. Yes, Severus had missed him. He had probably not stopped in to visit Harry for some inane, pointless reason, but Harry didn't care. It didn't matter now. He wanted to say something, anything that could further comfort the man, that could comfort them both, but there was nothing to say.

And Harry quickly forgot any words when Severus leaned away just enough to dive forward and press his lips to Harry's with all of the fire in his soul.

The emotional shudders turned to an overwhelming hum that curled over Severus's toes and raced up his body, crackling energy and pure, raw magic, transferring that to Harry, who all but collapsed in the powerful embrace.

Time passed by in fractions of years, of overstretched minutes and endless seconds as the two clung to each other so desperately that not even Merlin himself could have pried them apart. But as the heady sensation of pure bliss gave way to the heady sensation of needing to breathe, they relinquished their lips from one another but not their arms, which held their bodies so tightly together that it was impossible to distinguish where one body ended and the other began.

Anything that Severus had intended to say would apparently remain unspoken, but Harry didn't seem to mind. All of that worrying, the agonizing over Harry's presumed thoughts, had instantly ebbed when the younger man burst into the room. Severus couldn't deny that his impromptu decision to quell any animosity without verbal explanations wasn't a disaster, if the way Harry was gently sucking on his neck was anything to judge by.

Moaning in dulcet baritones, Severus's hands pressed urgently into Harry's back as the moist heat grew most insistent on his sensitive flesh. "Harry..." he breathed, sucking in sharply as those talented lips continued their delicious ministrations on his collarbone.

Slowly pulling away, Harry pressed one last lingering kiss to Severus's jaw before stepping back and saying, "I know." He grasped the older man's hands tightly, offering him a gentle smile.

"I just..." Severus couldn't find the right words to give justice to what he was feeling, what he wanted to say. There was so much, but he had never been one with words, unless he was trying to instill the wrath of Salazar into an unsuspecting pupil. But this was quite the different situation, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing.

But Harry didn't need any explanations. He could look at Severus's expression, at his actions, and know exactly what he was thinking, what he was feeling. There had always been an uncanny bond between them; first in their usual dispositions to insult one another, then in friendship, and now in... whatever was developing between them. Harry was going to take full advantage of his second chance. He deserved some good fortune. So did Severus.

Tugging him out the door, Harry said, "I just, too." He almost laughed at the wave of relief that considerably lightened the contemplative frown. He wasn't about to make Severus say anything he wasn't quite ready to put into words. Besides, the old adage of actions speaking louder was definitely working to their advantage in this situation.

Leading the older man through the labyrinth of winding corridors, Harry tried desperately to catch his breath. He felt an almost juvenile surge of adrenaline rush through him at the thought of his feelings being reciprocated. There had been an infinite number of reasons why Harry had kept his feelings to himself before. Namely, the war played a large part of that. Of course, his untimely death hadn't been helpful, either. But now that both of those were out of the way...

Upon reaching the correct portrait, Harry murmured the password which had so trustingly been bestowed upon him by the quarters' owner. Such a trust had become necessary once Harry was plagued daily and nightly by literally blindingly painful visions. Poppy could only do so much, which, unfortunately, did nothing at all for Harry. Severus frequently spend his days caring for the incapacitated teen, coaxing potions into his trembling body and monitoring him for any signs of dangerous hemorrhaging, which had occurred on more than one occasion. Harry really did owe his life to the man a million times over.

Settling down into the comfortable sofa that has served as his makeshift bed many a time, Harry pulled Severus down next to him and draped himself over the man, one leg thrown over Severus's lap, one arm stretching across his torso to the opposite arm of the sofa, effectively blocking the man in.

Harry was finished with standing idly by and watching life pass. He was through wasting time. And if the intense stare he was receiving in kind was any indication, he would surmise that Severus felt the same way.

"Harry, we need to talk," Severus began.

"I agree. But let's talk later." Giving no time for arguing, Harry seized Severus's lips with his own. Tiny waves of pleasure rolled over him as he was pulled fully onto Severus's lap. Whenever he was around the man, Harry always felt their connection physically, even when they were across the room from one another. Now, to be so close... Harry's body was thrumming with magic, crackling with lightning kisses and sparking caresses. It was as if their years of hating each other had been fuel for such an intense explosion of emotions.

As Harry pressed himself more fully against the potions master, he was rewarded with a rumbling growl that made Severus's smooth column of throat vibrate against Harry's lips. Needing no further encouragement, Harry's nimble fingers wasted no time in divesting both Severus and himself of their robes and shirts.

Now it was skin against skin, pale to pale, both canvases to various patterns of scars, both chests heaving from the friction of their proximity. The heat escalated as the space between them grew less and less.

Tearing his mouth away from Harry's, Severus ignored the confused murmur of protest and guided the younger man off the sofa and, reluctantly, his lap, and led him into the bedroom.

Using full advantage of his sprightly youthful energy, Harry pushed Severus onto the bed and settled his own weight on Severus's thighs. While his mouth roamed over every available inch of flushed skin, his hands deftly moved to unclasp Severus's trousers. Following the path of his hands, Harry's lips trailed down the slowly exposed skin. He paid special attention to the hollow behind Severus's left knee, which made the man gasp out strangled whimpers whenever Harry's tongue tickled over the sensitive flesh.

Making his way back up to Severus's mouth, Harry cried out in surprise as he was flipped over, and Severus insistently ground their hips together. Leaning over, Severus whispered hotly against his ear, "You're such a tease, Mr. Potter."

Before Harry could even register that comment, Severus had quickly rid them both of their remaining clothing. Then Harry felt tight, wet heat enclose around him, and his brain function started wavering. He growled in frustration as his hips were held unmoving by Severus's firm grip. As that graceful tongue swirled over and around him, he began to feel a white hot ball of energy grow in the pit of his stomach and spread throughout his entire body. Waves of fire threatened to engulf him as Severus pulled away and pressed a cool, slippery finger into him. It was soon joined by another finger, stretching the sensitive, puckered skin and making Harry fidget uncontrollably. "Severus... please..." he whimpered.

And in one swift movement Severus was inside of him, inside of that deliciously tight body. Giving a moment for both to adjust, he began to rock his hips rhythmically, pulling out almost fully before slipping back into Harry.

As Harry rocked more insistently against him, Severus increased their pace until they were both panting and moving furiously in time. Severus climaxed first, holding tightly onto Harry as he did so. The violent shuddering in Harry's body made stars explode behind his eyes as he too was sent over the edge.

Pulling out of Harry, Severus collapsed beside him in a breathless heap. And here he thought Harry was going to be angry, that they would have a row. Apparently taking the initiative worked quite well for Severus. He would have to do so again.

Frequently.

He sighed as Harry's warm, nude body draped over his own. Placing an arm around him, Severus murmured, "I still intend to have that talk in the morning."

"Mmargghl," Harry muttered unintelligibly. He pressed a chaste kiss to the damp chest he was using as a pillow. "G'night, Sev."

"Cheeky brat," Severus said with affection before tightening his hold on the other man and waving his hand to spell out the lights.

OoOoOoO

OoOoOoO

Ah, young love... er, lust... er, love... Either or, who cares! There was shagging!

I sooooooo apologize for my disappearing act on this fic. I do intend to finish it up, most likely with one more chapter. I am also currently working on the next chap to Born To Be Wild, if anyone is following that, so it may take a little while to get them posted. But rest assured, it will be less than a year! I promise!

Thank you endlessly to anyone who is still reading this, and to any new readers. I love and appreciate my fanbase, more than anyone knows. It's the reason I've been rushing to get this new chapter finished.

From the last two chapters, anyone who reviewed now has a shirtless and/or trouserless Sev. Of course, he has been so for almost a year, and I would imagine he is quite chilly, so my gift to those who review this chapter is an extremely large, fluffy bed for which to use however you would like with your shirtless and/or trouserless Sev.

Okie doke, I'm outta here, off to start the next chapter! Peace out!


End file.
